Curvy Girls Can’t Date Soldiers by Kelsie Stelting

Thirty-Eight

Apollo

Nadira toldme to meet her at Emerson Academy at one. She said she had to help set up for the competition, but she’d send me the schedule as soon as she had it.

Going to a high school by myself now that I was in college felt a little weird, though, so I asked Josh if he was up to tagging along. He’d quickly agreed, eager to skip his algebra class. I was pretty sure he’d only gone a few times so far. The outlook on his grades wasn’t great.

We got in my car and began driving toward the school, and I murmured, “She still hasn’t texted me the schedule.”

Josh shrugged, adjusting his seat. “Maybe she forgot. I’m sure we can ask someone when we get there.”

I gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter and nodded, not replying. I was trying to give Nadira another chance, but my heart wasn’t in it. Maybe the magic of our relationship had only existed in emails, which would be great for when she went to MIT or when I got deployed, but I needed more than that. The chemistry had to work in person too.

Part of me wondered if we’d see the girl from the basketball game when we got there, if Josh would be okay with introducing us, but I quickly tamped the thought down. First off, bro code. Second off, she’d told him she didn’t want to start anything serious before college. Who was to say she wouldn’t say the same to me?

And then I realized I was thinking about Tatiana again when I should have been thinking about Nadira. I was going to Emerson Academy to see her, after all.

The directions on my phone took us through a part of the neighboring town I’d only been to once before. It was nice, with brick streets and planters along the sidewalk with leafy trees and blooming flowers. Perks of living somewhere with no real winter, I guessed.

Josh stared open-mouthed at the massive school building. “That’s where she goes to school?”

I nodded. “It’s high pressure. Nadira said several California governors have graduated from here and a couple presidents too.” My high school’s only claim to fame was a country music star with two DUIs and a divorce under his belt. It was just a simple light brick building with a flat roof. Nothing like the enormous structure in front of us with artistic sculptures and engravings in Latin.

I found an empty spot in the parking lot and turned off the car.

Josh looked around us at all the expensive cars. “A pink Hummer? How much lamer can you get?”

My cheeks got hot.

“No,” Josh said.

I nodded, tightlipped.

“Oh man.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I thought there would be more people here,” he said.

I raised my eyebrows. “You’re not the only one who doesn’t care about math.”

He grumbled something about how going to a Mathlete competition should count for algebra attendance and got out of the car.

I slipped off my sunglasses and set them on the dash, then got out too. Still no text from Nadira. I let out a sigh, then followed Josh toward the school, locking the car behind me.

On the way in, I could feel the looks I was getting from people around me, but I kept my eyes ahead. As we walked up the stairs, I noticed Ad Meliora carved into the entrance. I reminded myself to ask Nadira what it meant later. If there was a later for the two of us.

Josh and I followed a small group of people into the building, and eventually they led us toward a cafeteria area. I looked around at the tables, thinking this is where Nadira ate lunch every day. Except for Thursdays when she and her friends got the AV room to themselves. I smiled softly, remembering the first time she had told me about it. By the end of the story, which included impersonations of her guidance counselor, she’d had me laughing out loud.

Why couldn’t she be like that when we met in person?

Another pang of grief swept through me, but I shoved it down as I looked where the people ahead of us were going. There were a couple of guys sitting at a table. One wore a crown made of paper with the words “Nadira’s brother” on it in thick black marker.

Josh turned away from the table and mumbled, “I’m finding a water fountain.”

“Sure.” I stepped forward, chuckling at the guy. “I like the hat.”

He gave me a crooked grin. “My sis is the future state champion of the mathletes. A nerd crown was in order.”

I laughed. This must have been where Nadira got her humor from. Not her ice sculpturesque parents. Now that I thought about it, where were her brothers on the night of the event? Still at basketball practice?

I realized I was being awkward and stuck my hand out. “I’m Apollo.”

“Carver,” he said, shaking my hand. But his face didn’t seem to register any understanding at all. Did he not know who I was? He picked up a green sheet of paper and handed it to me. “Here’s a program.”

I took it and said a dejected, “Thanks,” before turning around. Josh loitered around a I kept my eyes trained on the paper and Josh looked over my shoulder. Nadira hadn’t mentioned me before. All I’d done was rail on about her to anyone who would listen.

My phone vibrated in my back pocket then, and I handed Josh the sheet so I could check my text. Right on late, Nadira had sent me a picture of the very program I just handed Josh. Nothing more.

No, “looking forward to seeing you.” Or “thanks for coming.”

Nothing.

I let out a sigh and put my phone back in my pocket.

Josh said, “Looks like we’ll be in room 112 for the first round.”

“It might be our only round,” I muttered and glanced around, looking for the nearest classroom. We followed the numbers over the doors until we reached the right 112. The plastic sign beside the door said Advanced Math – Mr. Aris.

Nadira had mentioned him—her favorite teacher. I drank in the room, wondering if I could see it through her eyes. Just as she’d said, there were posters of famous mathematicians decorating the walls. My favorite quote was the one by Einstein.

Attendance in the room was pretty sparse, but I realized I saw a familiar face. My advisor, Dr. Harris, sat with a man I assumed was her husband just a few chairs over.

“Hey, Dr. Harris,” I said, lifting my hand.

Her lips spread into a grin that told me she was happy to see me. “Hi, Apollo. I’m so glad you came!”

Her excitement confused me. In the nicest way I could, I asked, “What are you doing here?”

“My daughter’s competing. Did Nadira not mention I’m her mother?”

My eyebrows drew together. “Are there two Nadiras at the Academy?” She did not look like the cold, stick-thin woman I’d met the night before.

“I don’t think so,” she said, looking confused. “Not that I know of anyway.”

“Oh,” I said, sitting back, trying to register what was going on.

Josh whispered, “How do you know Nadira?”

I leaned closer to him. “Nadira’s the girl I’ve been talking to. Haven’t I told you her name?”

“Email girl is Nadira?” he asked. “Because Nadira was the girl I met at that party.”

I checked his pupils for extra dilation. His head for a sign of injury. “Are you on something?” I asked. “Your girl’s name is Tatiana. Nadira introduced her to me last Friday.”

“Tatiana?” he said. “I’ve never heard that name in my life.” He got out his phone and showed me a contact. Clearly, it said Nadira.

“That’s not a common name...” I said slowly.

Josh said, “What’s going on here?” At the same time, Nadira walked into the room and said, “Hi, sweetie!”

I pulled my head back slightly at the greeting. Nadira never called me sweetie on the phone. Or anything other than Apollo for that matter. I was about to ask her if she knew another Nadira at the school, but multiple students dressed in school uniforms filed in and sat at the tables in the front of the room.

Five people filled the table labeled with a tented piece of paper for the home team. Including Josh’s girl.

My eyebrows drew together, and I whispered to Nadira, “Why aren’t you up there?”

She brushed a finger over her lips. “I have a surprise.”

Something didn’t feel right. It made me want to get up and leave as fast as I could, but someone closed the door to the room, and I couldn’t. I felt trapped like a rabbit in a cage.

The man who’d shut the door moved to a podium between the two tables. “Hello Mathletes, teachers, students, and supporters. I’m Headmaster Bradford, and I’m so thankful you’ve come to Emerson Academy for this prestigious event. It is even more of a joy being able to open the first round with students from my school in the room.” He smiled at the girl at the end of the table. Tatiana. Or Nadira. I couldn’t tell.

I studied her carefully, looking for a name tag or anything that would tell us who she truly was. All I could see was the sign she sat behind that said Captain...

My vision blurred as I remembered the first email she’d ever sent me. She was captain of the Mathletes. A girl on her team wanted the position too. Then I remembered something else. Nadira had complained about being bullied for her weight.

I glanced at the thin girl next to me and had a feeling she was not the Nadira I knew.

When I looked back at the table, Tatiana’s eyes were on me. Or Nadira’s eyes. Whoever she was, her face was pale. Her full lips were parted. Her throat moved with her swallow.

The headmaster continued, “I’ll announce our competitors. On my right, I have the home team, Emerson Academy. Our captain, Nadira Harris. Regina Baldwin....”

My mouth was dry.

Nadira Harris.

I looked at the girl next to me, an evil smirk on her narrow face. She smiled between me and Nadira, clearly having the time of her life, but I felt sick. My stomach turned, and I knew I had to get out of here before I lost it on the floor. Before I passed out. Before what was clearly happening registered fully and I lost my mind.

I stood, my chair scraping so loudly over the tiled floor it stopped the headmaster’s speech, and bolted toward the door.

My hand was on the cold steel handle when I heard her voice.

“Apollo, wait!”

I turned and looked at her. Not the girl who’d been sitting next to me, but the girl standing behind the table. Behind the captain sign.

Her mouth moved, but no words came out.

That was the Nadira I knew, but as it turned out, I hadn’t known her at all.